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Awaken: Book 1 of the Dark Paradise Trilogy

Page 5

by Isadora Brown


  “Hey,” Andie said, her voice a bit wary as she took a seat next to the blonde.

  A bright smile eclipsed Reese’s face when she saw Andie. Her eyes looked more blue than grey with that dress.

  “Look, I’m really sorry about what I said at the party.” Reese tried to wave her off, but Andie continued, dropping the plastic bag of cookies onto Reese’s desk—hopefully they hadn’t cracked from impact. “Even if you are used to it, I hate when people jump to conclusions about me without getting to know me first. I did that to you, and I’m sorry. I’m also sorry if the cookies are burnt. I’ve been studying my ass off and have been out of practice with my baking.”

  “Oh, please.” Reese opened the bag, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “At least you can bake. The kitchen is like a foreign country to me, and every time I attempt to cook something, I burn something. It’s like some kind of talent. Our housekeeper Carmen came with us from Beverly Hills and has been trying to teach me since I was, like, seven because she’s afraid potential husbands are going to reject me if I don’t know how to cook.” She paused in order to take a bite of the treat. “Oh my God, Andie. How did you know cookies are like my forbidden pleasure?”

  “I’m glad you like them,” Andie said.

  At that moment, Carey dropped into the other seat next to Andie and quipped, “I still can’t believe you didn’t get thrown out and you got the internship.”

  “Thrown out?” Reese asked through a mouthful of cookies. “Internship?”

  Andie and Carey quickly filled Reese in on Andie’s complete history with Jack Phillip. It only spanned all of two days, but by the end of it, Reese nearly choked on her cookie because she was laughing so hard. The girls had to lower their voices as other classmates trickled in.

  “Can I hear the message?” Reese asked.

  Andie nodded her head, whipped out her outdated flip phone, and after typing in her password, handed the phone to Reese.

  “I’m nervous,” Andie admitted, her hand cupping the back of her neck. “I start today. My mom and I actually went to Kohl’s so I could get business attire.”

  “How is your mom?” Carey asked in a whisper.

  Andie pressed her lips together before responding, “The same since Dad left. Now that she gave me her car, she never leaves the house. Saturday was a shocker to all of us. I actually have to swing by the grocery store tonight.”

  “She still doesn’t work?”

  Andie rolled her eyes. “I wish she would,” she murmured. “Mom used to love work. Now she sits around all day, watching soap operas and Maury. It’s why I’m so lucky I got that internship. My job at the Spirit Museum is only on weekends, and that combined with Keirah’s job at the bank was just not cutting it anymore. She only works Saturdays now because of her mandatory internship program all seniors have to take, and that internship program definitely isn’t paid. We really need the extra income.”

  “So,” Reese said, oblivious to the fact that she was interrupting. “How’d you get the position? Apologize?”

  “No,” Andie said, shaking her head. “He apparently liked the fact that I was honest with him, so he sought me out himself. Just after you left the balcony, he offered me the position.”

  “And,” Carey put in, “knowing Andie, she didn’t say, ‘Thanks so much for the offer, Mr. Phillip. Of course I’d be happy to take the job.’ ”

  “Okay, first of all, that was a terrible impression of me,” Andie said. “Secondly, I merely relayed to him my concern of being messed with, and told him that if he was doing such a thing, karma was going to bite him in that cement-like ass of his.” Carey let out a groan and Reese threw her head back to laugh. Everyone in the room turned to look at her—even Mr. Frampton—but Reese didn’t seem to notice. “What? You should be proud I censored myself.”

  Reese leaned toward Andie, a mischievous smile on her face. “Did you really tell him he had a cement-like ass?” she asked.

  “Like anyone needs to tell him that,” Andie replied. “Of course I didn’t tell him. That would just add to that ass-tronomical ego of his.”

  “All right, all right, let’s simmer down,” Mr. Frampton said, taking his usual position in front of the podium. “Class has officially begun.”

  “I hate the sun,” Andie muttered to herself as she emerged from the parking garage onto the sidewalk. Phillip’s building was only a few feet away and she already felt sweat stains start to form under her arms.

  She had spent the entire lunch period foregoing lunch and getting ready. She wore a green collared blouse and black tuxedo pants. A matching black blazer was tucked over her arm and on her feet were a pair of sensible black flats. Her bangs were pulled back from her face with a pair of bobby pins, and with the help of Reese, her face was lightly made up.

  Once she reached the doors to Phillip Enterprises, Andie shrugged on the blazer, knowing she’d be wearing it for the rest of the workday unless she wanted her new co-workers to see her newly acquired stains.

  “How may I help you?” a woman sitting behind the receptionist’s desk asked, flashing Andie a polite smile.

  “Oh, hi,” Andie said, relishing the cool air conditioning. She shifted her weight. “My name is Andie Shepherd. I, uh, well, I’m Jack Phillip’s new intern.”

  “Right,” the woman—her nameplate said Denise—murmured, flipping through a neat stack of organized papers. “Mr. Phillip informed me that he was expecting you. Please go up to the forty-fifth floor where Miranda Winokur will tell you what is expected of you.”

  “Oh.” Andie’s shoulders slumped and her lips curled into a frown. “It’s just, I thought Mr. Phillip was going to train me himself since I’d be his intern.”

  Her statement must have been amusing to Denise because she burst out into a fit of giggles. Andie regarded the woman with an exasperated look on her face, waiting for the receptionist to collect herself.

  “I’m sorry,” Denise said, covering her mouth because there was still a smile on her face. “You must think I’m so rude. It’s just that, what you said was something a new person would say. Let me see if I can explain more clearly: Mr. Phillip does not have time to train people, he hires people to do that for him.”

  Andie clenched her jaw, counting down from ten. She would not respond, she would not respond, she would not—

  But she couldn’t let this woman talk to her this way. It wasn’t in her nature. “Well, it’s obvious no one had the time to train you,” she snapped, and with that, Andie turned and headed to the elevators.

  As she stepped into the metal compartment, she racked her brain to remember what floor Denise had told her to go to. Forty-something.

  Hmm.

  Just before the doors closed, a long arm slid through, causing the doors to spring open. In walked Jack Phillip himself, and much to Andie’s dismay, every hair on his head was perfectly in place and there was no chance he had sweat stains under his arms.

  Oh my God, I don’t smell, do I?

  Phillip regarded Andie with a polite nod and reached out to press the button to the forty-fifth floor. Something inside Andie told her this was indeed the floor she was supposed to go to and she felt herself relax at the fact that she wouldn’t have to ask Phillip for help.

  That lasted up until Phillip glanced at her and said, “You know, Denise just told me something very interesting …”

  “Oh yeah?” Andie’s tone was wary, looking up at him from the corner of her eyes. “Denise looks like she would say something interesting.”

  Phillip furrowed his brow, taking in his new employee. “Was that supposed to be an insult?” he asked, trying to mask his grin.

  “Did it sound like an insult?” she asked innocently as she could before her face flattened. “What, exactly, did she say?”

  “Apparently,” he replied, placing his hands in his pockets. “Oh, how did she put it? ‘Some new red head with the out of fashion striped shirt has a bad attitude and you should fire her as soon as you get the chance.�
�� Yeah, that’s how it went.”

  “Okay, I probably crossed a line,” she admitted. She clenched her jaw before continuing. “But Denise laughed in my face when I asked why you weren’t training me since I was supposed to be your intern.”

  “A perfectly reasonable question.”

  Andie’s gaze snapped into his. “Are you mocking me?” she asked.

  “Oh, never,” Jack said, serious. “Although I am an asshole, so that’s probably a characteristic of mine.” This comment caused Andie to scowl which made him laugh.

  When the elevator doors slid open at the appropriate floor, Andie suddenly felt uncomfortable. Stepping out, she felt everyone’s eyes on her, peeking over the cubicles to get a good look. Andie estimated that nearly forty people worked on this floor, and she could see them scrutinizing her, criticizing her. While Phillip seemed to admire her sassy attitude, she was certain that people here weren’t as obliging. Of course, it didn’t really matter whether they liked her or not just as long as Phillip did. But she knew she’d be interacting with these people on a day-to-day basis, and she wanted to make sure she made a good first impression.

  “Good morning,” Phillip announced, standing next to her. He acknowledged his employees with direct eye contact and a curt nod, his hands still in his pockets. “I hope everyone is having a good day so far. This,” he nodded at Andie, “is my new intern, Andie Shepherd.” He looked down at her. “Ready to meet the woman you’ll be working with directly?”

  Andie nodded and let him lead her through the cubicles of people until he stopped at a rather spacious office on the other side of the room. On the door, she saw the name Miranda Winokur written in black calligraphy. There was a desk in the center of the room with a smaller one tucked in the corner. Both desks had a computer, a phone, and everything else one might need at a corporation. There were chairs in case of visitors and a copy of The Onyx Post on both desks. The view of the city was absolutely beautiful, and she walked over to the window, gazing down at the crowded streets. The sun was still shining.

  “Do you like it?” he asked once she turned to face him again. “Miranda should be here any minute.”

  Andie bit her lip, trying to conceal a smile, but the wrinkles around her eyes gave her away.

  “Good,” he replied. He was looking at her in an odd way, one she couldn’t decipher, but he seemed sincere. “I’m glad.”

  At that moment, a woman walked in with two mugs that, judging from the smell, Andie guessed was coffee. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties with dark, curly brown hair and matching brown eyes. She was a tad hefty with a bright smile that lit up her entire face.

  Once she set the coffee down, she spun around to Andie and stuck out her hand. “I’m Miranda Winokur,” she said, shaking Andie’s hand. “You must be Andie. Coffee? You’re going to need it working for this guy.”

  “Got to keep you guys in check,” Jack teased. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Have fun, Andie.”

  His jade green eyes sparkled at her before he finally left, reducing her stomach to a tizzy and creating goose bumps on her forearms. She couldn’t tell if it was nerves at starting a new job or something else entirely.

  8

  “I still can’t believe you got the internship,” Keirah said over breakfast Monday morning.

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Andie said after a rather big bite of Reeses Puff Cereal. Her pale green eyes glanced around the kitchen where the dining table was placed, as though to make sure their mother was still in her room. “You know we need the money.”

  “I’m not complaining.” Keirah abruptly stood up and grabbed her plate with crumbs of cinnamon toast scattered on its surface. And then, to herself, “You just get everything handed to you on a silver platter is all.”

  Keirah tried not to get bitter when it came to Andie, but there were moments—like this one—when she just couldn’t help it. To her, Andie got anything she wanted without really working for it. She got the paid internship at Phillip Enterprises, she got her first job she ever applied for at the Spirit Museum not because she actually believed in religion, but because she knew the story of Hades and Persephone like the back of her hand, she got into the Intro to Business class after a quick chat with the counselor, and even though she was a horrible test-taker, Andie still managed to get straight A’s every semester. She also had curves while Keirah didn’t. While Andie was more of a Kate Winslet, Keirah was more Kate Moss, and while she knew that both women were gorgeous, she wished she had bigger breasts and more of a butt.

  By the time she reached Dr. Hawkins’s office, all thoughts of Andie vanished. Her heart began to pound, excitement coursing through her with a twinge of nervousness causing her heart to jump every few seconds. When one o’clock rolled around, she headed to the back room, nodding once at Hiro before letting herself in.

  He was sitting in the same position before. As she took her seat, she noticed that he was twitching in a subtle but deliberate way, like he was trying to keep himself awake. A sign that he really was human, not some demon whose sole purpose on earth is to cause destruction, chaos, and heartbreak like the media portrayed him to be. She almost felt sorry for him, but immediately suppressed the thought. How could she feel pity for a merciless madman?

  “So we gonna sit here in silence, princess?” Noir asked in his silky tone, his head snapping up so he was fully gazing at Keirah. “’Cause, uh … if we are, I should probably go now. I don’t want to hum … waste my time or anything like that.”

  Dr. Hawkins was already writing.

  “Because I’m sure you have people expecting you in your cell,” Keirah said before she could stop herself. She held her breath, waiting for Hawkins to reprimand her for how unprofessional she was being, but besides a grin from the man in front of her, her statement elicited no response.

  “Actually, my dear, I ammm-ah,” he replied, raising his brow so his scar twitched. It was then that Keirah noticed his arms. Every time the villain said something, his arms would move like he would be gesturing had his wrists not been shackled together. His eyes twitched shut and then reopened, shifting sideways before looking back into hers once again, a delightful smile on his face. “Would you like to play a game, princess?”

  Keirah’s brow rose and she glanced over at Hawkins, hoping for some guidance. However, the doctor continued to all but ignore her, leaving the decision completely up to her. Should she dare play a game with him? Keirah rested her elbow on the arm of her chair and then followed suit with her cheek in her palm. Maybe she might figure out something useful if she indulged him.

  “What game would we play?” she asked.

  His smile widened at her decision to humor him, and his tongue slipped out of his mouth, slithering over the cracked skin of his lips before snapping back into his mouth. “Well-ah,” he began, his eyes twitching once again. “It’s much like the game, uh, truth or dare but since I can’t do anything hum … fun in these here cuffs,” he reached his arms up to prove his point, “it will just be truth.” He blinked and smacked his lips together, curling them into a smirk as he waited for her answer.

  Keirah thought for a moment. This would be an excellent way to get information out of him, but she would be expected to provide information about herself in return. If worst came to worst, she reasoned, she could lie.

  His smirk deepened. “And no lies,” he said. “If you lie I get to ask a very hum … personal question.” His tone darkened substantially. “Very pers-ah-nal.” He twitched his brow, this time on purpose, indicating that though this was a game, he was serious about the rules.

  “Okay.” She nodded her head.

  “Good,” Noir drawled, his smirk reappearing on his face. He cleared his throat and sat up straight before saying, “Tell me, ah, your full name.”

  “Keirah Elen Shepherd,” she stated, crossing her legs. She quirked a brow. “And yours?”

  “Ah, are ya, are ya trying to trick me, dearie?” he asked, letting out a giggl
e. His shoulders jumped in amusement. “I am known only as Noir. I have no other aliases.” His fingers flexed as he explained himself, trying to follow along with his words but failing because they were trapped. “Just Noir. Just Noir.” His eyes blinked and he regarded her with a serious expression.

  “Fine,” she relented.

  He grinned, baring his yellow teeth. Keirah wondered if it had been a conscious decision to stop brushing his teeth or if he simply forgot to do it. She tucked the thought away, hoping to remember it when they got past basic questions.

  “When is your birthday?” he asked.

  “February 28th,” she replied. “And yours?”

  “January 6th.”

  The next question took more time for him to come up with than Keirah anticipated. Her heart began to beat in time to the ticking wall clock and she gently gnawed her bottom lip.

  “What, my dear, is your fa-vor-it color, hmm?” His lips pressed together as the corners of his chops pulled up.

  Keirah smiled at the question. “Green,” she murmured. “Green is my favorite color.”

  “Ah,” Noir said, sitting up straighter. “I commend you on your choice, princess.” He leaned forward at a forty-five degree angle and his eyes slid down so they were nearly slits. “Ya see,” he said as though this was a most fascinating subject to him, “my favorite color is red, as I’m sure you remember.” He let out a quick laugh before regarding her seriously once again. “See, red and green almost belong together, yanno what I mean? They go together. Like Christmas! Green and red. Red and green. A match made in Hell, if hum … they’ll have you.” His eyes twitched again, and without realizing it, Keirah swallowed. Noir leaned back against the couch, regarding her through hooded eyes. “So I guess this means we were made for each other.”

 

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